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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26478925">Maybe in another universe?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy3cake/pseuds/holy3cake'>holy3cake</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Saw (Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Coffee Shops, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Graveyard Encounters, M/M, Sad and Happy, Snow, well kind of</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:07:11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,860</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26478925</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/holy3cake/pseuds/holy3cake</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mark is taking an annual trip to Angelina's grave, as he always does. However, he isn't aware of Peter, who can see his sadness from miles away. </p><p>What could've happened if Mark and Peter met under different circumstances? Would there be a chance for Mark to feel something real? Would Peter give him the chance? <br/>AU starring Hoffman and Strahm, in a cute coffee-snow universe!</p><p>Rated M for smut and sad themes! Please be advised!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mark Hoffman/Peter Strahm</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Maybe in another universe?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hey everyone! I decided to do a fluffy piece after a request so here it is! It’s basically just Mark and Peter being like super out of character and showing their lives if John had never been involved, or maybe if Mark had just had a soul to begin with! It’s a little change of pace, because anyone who knows me knows I like to go down the hardcore smut route, so this is a refreshing change for me. Anyway, Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The incessant sound of buzzing alerted Mark that he’d overslept and the increasing volume threatened him that he’d already wasted most of his morning. Grunting and getting out of bed with a thud, Mark ran a hand through his unruly bed head and went to the bathroom, not registering much of the outside world until he’d gone through his usual routine of brushing his teeth and checking his calendar. The date caught his gaze, and he dropped his toothbrush on the floor, cursing as he spilt toothpaste on his bare leg. Picking up the calendar, he sighed deeply as he traced the date with his hand, and looked at his writing underneath.</p><p>
  <em>Take Flowers to Angelina. </em>
</p><p>Placing his calendar back down, Mark showered and dressed with little emotion. It had been a year since his sister was murdered, and whilst he’d come to terms with her death, it was her 26<sup>th</sup> birthday, and she had to spend it cold and alone. Mark visited her grave on every occasion, but there was a particular sadness as he headed to the store to buy her a bouquet. He was the only one who ever visited the grave, as their remaining family had died too, and Angelina’s father abandoned her when she was still in kindergarten. Mark wouldn’t react kindly if he’d bumped into Mr Acomb at the graveside, so he’d forwarded the news to him that his daughter had died, but warned him to stay away, or there would be consequences. When Mark had chosen the right flowers, he purchased them and headed to the train station. He always regretted living so far away from her, but slowly he was beginning to save enough money to move a little closer. Staring out of the window, he held the flowers tightly and watched as the train departed, his stomach swirling as he continued with the journey he’d done at least ten times before.</p><p>Even though there were a few delays, Mark managed to make it to the graveyard just after 2pm. It was imperative that he’d got there before 3pm, as he never forgot the day he rushed to the hospital with the news of her birth. 15:02, Angelina Acomb made her appearance into the world. But she was taken far too soon, and Mark tried to force images out of his head of Angelina smiling and hugging him, otherwise he’d break down again. Weaving carefully past other headstones, Mark eventually knelt down by his sister’s grave, and removed the dying flowers he previously put there two months ago. He laid the new bouquet down, and placed one hand on the headstone.</p><p>“Happy birthday, sis. I hope you’re having a good day. Did you speak to mom today?” Mark sat crossed-legged, arranging the flowers neatly as he spoke to himself. He’d only started speaking to Angelina recently, and although he knew he’d never get a response, there was a particular comfort in telling her everything that had happened recently.</p><p>“So, you know I got that promotion? I don’t know if I’m really enjoying it. I know you are probably going to tell me to stick it out, but I can’t help wondering if I want to pursue something else.” Mark rested his head on his hand and sighed deeply, unaware that someone was listening behind him.</p><p>“Did she give you any advice?” A deep voice called from behind, startling Mark out of his conversation. Turning around, he saw a tall man wearing a suit and very thick coat. His black hair fell over his eyes, and he smiled warmly when Mark turned to look at him.</p><p>“Sorry?”</p><p>“Please forgive me for eavesdropping. But I heard you, asking your loved one about your job. Did she give you any advice?” The man walked over and knelt beside him, reading the headstone that Mark had been talking to. Mark bit his lip and scratched his neck, feeling a little foolish that someone had been listening.</p><p>“O-Oh, well…..I can’t actually like…..talk to the dead or anything…”</p><p>“It’s okay. I speak to my nephew too. I know we don’t get a verbal response, but I can imagine what he’s doing now. So tell me, what’s your loved one doing now?” The man was still smiling, and understood fully what Mark was doing. Even though he still felt awkward, Mark found comfort in the man’s words and offered him a small smile.</p><p>“It’s uh….it’s my sister’s birthday today. Usually we’d go out and see a movie, or go to a bar and I’d order her a birthday cocktail. I think she would pick a birthday cake surprise one today.”</p><p>“That cocktail that includes real cake?”</p><p>“Yeah…..she always liked those.” Mark looked down sadly, still remembering when Angelina would squeal in delight when she saw the waiter bringing over her extravagant cocktail with sparklers on top. Trying to distract himself from the memory, he looked at the man next to him.</p><p>“Are you visiting your nephew today?”</p><p>“Yeah. He was killed in a car crash about 8 months ago. Today would’ve been his school play, so I wanted to wish him luck.” The man smiled and Mark nodded, it was nice to speak to someone who knew about loss, and not receive the usual sympathetic gaze.</p><p>“Listen, forgive me for being so forward, but would you like to get coffee with me? I’ve seen you around here a few times, and I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while. But I don’t want to interrupt your conversation.” The man smiled, and Mark found himself raising his eyebrow. He wasn’t sure whether to feel surprised that someone had noticed his frequent visits, or shocked that the man seemed to have high respect for his sister, despite them never meeting before. Standing up, he smiled again.</p><p>“Yeah, let’s go. I think Angelina probably wants to sleep in anyway, she always gets annoyed if someone disturbs her on her birthday.” Mark smiled softly as the man stood up next to him.</p><p>“It was nice to meet you, Angelina.” The man nodded at the grave, then started walking with Mark beside him.</p><p>“Oh, my name is Peter, by the way. Peter Strahm.” Peter held out his hand and received a firm handshake.</p><p>“Mark Hoffman.”</p><p>***</p><p><br/>The walk from the graveyard to the café was blissfully short, and the two men sat opposite each other as Peter ordered a mocha for himself, and paid for Mark’s black coffee. Sipping a little hesitantly, Mark stared at Peter.</p><p>“So….you’re a bit weird you know?”</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Most people just tell me that they’re sorry for my loss and walk away thinking I’m a lunatic for talking to a grave.”</p><p>“I don’t think that’s right. If you lose someone, it’s natural to talk to them. Whether or not they respond, it doesn’t matter. There’s an emptiness, I know because sometimes it still feels like my nephew is here.”</p><p>“Like, a spirit?”</p><p>“No, the memory. As in, I will still walk into a room and think he’s playing there. It’s not natural to lose someone so young. He was only 7.”</p><p>“I know what you mean. My sister is 26 today, and I still want to plan something. I know it’s futile but…”</p><p>“Tell me about her.”</p><p>“She was like…..the happiest person ever. Nothing could bring her down, even when she was heartbroken or worried. She broke her arm once when we were rock climbing, but she barely noticed. She just wanted to make sure I was okay getting down.”</p><p>“That’s really sweet. She’s clearly very caring.”</p><p>“Maybe too much.”</p><p>“What do you mean?”</p><p>Mark’s grip tightened around his cup, and he felt his eyebrow twitching a little. Whenever he spoke about Angelina, an unwelcome face always popped into his mind.</p><p>“She was murdered. She was in a relationship with……doesn’t matter. But he killed her. I couldn’t protect her….” Seeing Mark’s mental turmoil, Peter bit his lip a little and reached out, gently placing his hand over Mark’s resting on the table.</p><p>“Hey, I know it’s cliché but it’s not your fault. We have to let our loved ones make mistakes. I know that your sister probably made the wrong decisions, but you couldn’t have dictated her life. Mark, you can’t keep blaming yourself.” Peter said softly, his fingertips gently rubbing the top of Mark’s hand. Raising his head a little, Mark felt his last reserves slipping away. He really didn’t want to cry in front of a stranger, but Peter’s tenderness was almost too sweet.</p><p>“I know but…..it hurts so much sometimes…..”</p><p>“I know that too. But the hurting will stop, when you realize that the ones we love never truly leave us. They’re right here.” Peter reached across the table and put his hand on Mark’s shirt, just over his heart. Mark stared at him for a moment, still unsure of what feeling was pooling inside his stomach, but definitely touched by Peter’s words, physically and emotionally. Peter pulled his hand back and took a drink, still smiling. Desperate to break the tension that Peter had created, Mark smirked and held his cup to his face.</p><p>“Your wife must be sick of your clichés, huh?” He chuckled nervously.</p><p>“I mean, she would be if she existed. And I’m gay, just for the record.”</p><p>“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything….” Mark stuttered a little, coughing as he did so.</p><p>“No, it’s cool. You’re adorable when you’re nervous.” Peter smirked, recreating the tension that Mark had tried to remove. As Mark finished his drink, he tried to disregard Peter’s last comment and stood up, putting his jacket on.</p><p>“Uh listen….It’s getting a bit late….I have some stuff to do later…” Peter nodded at Mark’s words and stood up, also putting his coat on.</p><p>“Do you want a lift home?”</p><p>“I get the train..”</p><p>“I can take you to the station, then.” Peter was very insistent, which only made Mark feel nervous again. As they headed to the door, a very cold breeze almost knocked Mark off his feet. He gasped as he stepped outside. The roads were now glistening with snow, and tiny snowflakes fell daintily from the sky. His jacket was only a meagre offering to the newly created winter wonderland, and he shivered violently. Peter blinked, and looked at Mark in his underdressed state.</p><p>“Didn’t you see the forecast this morning?”</p><p>“No, I overslept…”</p><p>“Here. This should keep you warm until we get to the station.” Peter whipped off his large coat and wrapped it around Mark, surprising the slightly shorter man as he was bundled up. Leading Mark to his car, Peter opened the door for him and still found a smile across his face. He drove carefully through the snow, but as he reached the station, there were various notices across the boards.</p><p>
  <em>All trains services delayed or cancelled. Please refer to our revised timetable. </em>
</p><p>From the car window, Mark sighed deeply and shook his head.</p><p>“Shit. I’ll call a taxi. Thank you for the lift.” Mark went to open the door, but Peter restarted the car.</p><p>“You can hang out at mine until the trains run again, if you like. The taxi service around here is awful. You’ll be waiting in the cold for hours, and you’ll get ill.”</p><p>“Um…”</p><p>“I don’t live far from here. Just one hour, until the situation improves?” Peter pleaded, hovering over the handbrake. Mark sighed softly and nodded, too cold to complain. The thought of waiting outside in the snow for a taxi wasn’t appealing either, so he just leaned back as Peter drove them to his place. He stroked the inside of Peter’s fur-lined coat that was draped around his shoulders. It was intriguing, the scent of the Peter’s cologne was very mild and musky, and he wasn’t sure why the other man was so persistent to help him. As they reached Peter’s house, Peter opened his front door and let Mark in, locking his car behind them as they both stepped inside. It was a spacious house, with very minimalistic designs and the scent of yesterday’s cooking lingering in the air. As Mark shed his borrowed coat, he smirked as he imagined Peter in the kitchen, probably the type of man that cooked for his thousands of family members. He found the coat rack and hung up Peter’s coat along with his jacket, rubbing his arms that were still cold. Peter joined him, patted his back gently.</p><p>“You’ve got snow in your hair.”</p><p>“Huh?” Mark placed his hand on his head, and jumped when he felt a huge lump of snow in his hair. It was starting to melt, and Peter grinned when he saw Mark shivering a little at the water droplets running down his neck.</p><p>“Here, let me.” Peter moved his hands to Mark’s head, and gently scraped the snow into his hand. Mark flinched a little at Peter’s large warm hands going over his scalp so gently, the mixture of heat and cold making him close his eyes before blinking quickly. As soon as they’d been running through Mark’s hair, Peter’s hands were at the window, throwing the snow outside. Brushing a few stray snowflakes off his arms, Peter smiled back at Mark who was hovering the hallway.</p><p>“You can go sit down, you know. It’s warmer inside.” Peter led him into the living room and almost had to force him to sit down.</p><p>“Are you always this friendly to people you’ve just met?” Mark said suddenly, the curiosity finally getting to him.</p><p>“No. But….just because we’ve only just met…..doesn’t mean that I haven’t wanted to ask you before…”</p><p>“So you’ve been watching me, or something?”</p><p>“You probably think I’m a weirdo. But you always looked so lonely and sad when you visited your sister. I’ve been wanting to speak to you for weeks, but I really didn’t want to interrupt you. When you spoke to your sister, you always seemed happier. But I never really found the right moment.”</p><p>“So why now?”</p><p>“I just…I don’t know. I’m sorry. You can just think I’m a freak.” Peter shrugged and went to the kitchen, rummaging around with something. Mark played with the corner of a cushion, staring at the fake fur rug that laid beside the coffee table. Everything in his life had been consumed by sadness, but finding someone who knew about loss, and had wanted to share his stories, it was filling him with conflict but also an unknown emotion. Whilst he couldn’t quite place the emotion, when Peter was speaking to him, he couldn’t help but stare. His eyelashes glistened with freshly melted snow, and his eyes were so beautiful. But he had dark circles under his eyes. Hearing him tinkering in the kitchen, he bit his lip as he slowly started to recognise what he was feeling.</p><p>Peter soon returned with two cups, sitting down beside Mark on the sofa. As he handed one to him, Mark smirked softly at its contents. Hot chocolate, with tiny marshmallows. Definitely a Peter drink.</p><p>“Thanks. Hey, we’ve been talking a lot about me. But, are you okay? You look really tired.” Mark said, as he blew a little steam off his drink.</p><p>“Yeah. Just….a difficult few nights you know? I’ll be okay.” Even though Peter’s reassurance wasn’t believable, Mark nodded and sipped his drink. Edging a little closer, he put his cup on the table.</p><p>“Peter?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Why did you choose today? I can tell there’s something you’re not telling me.”</p><p>“I….I wanted to make you happy. Generally, I hate seeing people sad. But you…it was worse seeing you cry. I just…I could tell you were going through something. I thought maybe if I could offer you my friendship, it might help.”</p><p>“Yeah, because friends are always so nice.”</p><p>“Okay, can you please stop pushing?”</p><p>“Why should I? You basically kidnapped me, so why can’t you tell me?”</p><p>“That wasn’t my intention…”</p><p>“Peter.”</p><p>“I….like you, alright? Yes, I know we’re strangers. But when I saw you….the first time…..I fell in love with you at first sight. Happy now?”</p><p>“Hey.” Mark put his hand on Peter’s knee, and jumped a little when he flinched.</p><p>“You’re freezing.”</p><p>“Am I?” Mark took Peter’s hand and put it on his face, basking in the warmth again. Peter bit his lip and put his hand on Mark’s other cheek, still surprised at how cold he was.</p><p>“Maybe you should warm me up.”</p><p>“Mark…” Peter was silenced when he felt icy lips on his own, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around the cold man. Pulling him closer, Peter felt Mark beginning to warm up a little, even more so when he spread his lips apart a little, kissing him deeply. Threading his fingers through Peter’s belt loops, Mark heard a muffled groan and growled slightly, stirred by the noise. As they pulled away from each other, Mark’s hands stayed firmly hooked in Peter’s trousers.</p><p>“We should really check the weather…” Peter stumbled, loosening his collar a little.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>“B-Because..”</p><p>“Come here.”</p><p>“I don’t do one night-stands, Mark.”</p><p>“Good, because I don’t want one. I like this. I like you. The friendliness, and the weird drinks.” Mark smiled softly, eyes still hazy from the kiss. Peter stared at him in awe, still aware of Mark’s hands on his belt loops.</p><p>“Will you stay over tonight?”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>Peter stood up and took Mark to his bedroom, which was considerably warmer than the living room. He barely made it through the door before the two of them were ripping each other’s clothes off in a furious frenzy. Between kisses, Peter pushed Mark on the bed and prowled over him, met by friction when they brushed each other.</p><p>“I can see you’re not cold anymore.” Peter purred softly in Mark’s ear, pressing against his bulge. The two of them only sported their boxers now, but it was still infuriating.</p><p>“Shut up and touch me..”</p><p>“I’ll do better than that.” Peter looked at Mark with a dark, animalistic urge in his eyes and pulled off his boxers with his teeth. As he removed the last pieces of fabric separating them, he smirked as Mark visibly shivered. He peppered light kisses up his thigh, then his eyes widened when he saw how big the object he had to work with was, when it was right in his eyeline. Running his tongue across the tip teasingly, he enveloped the whole thing without a word. Mark groaned loudly at the sudden contact, covering his mouth to stop the obscene noises he was making as Peter sucked hard. But even with his hand clamped over his mouth, Mark cried out when Peter intentionally scraped his teeth along the base, the sensitivity proving too much to handle. When Peter pulled off him, he scouted back up his body and kissed him hard, causing Mark’s nails to graze his back.</p><p>“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you.” Mark narrowed his eyes a little, glaring at the man above him. Peter grinned, enjoying Mark’s slight annoyance.</p><p>“Tell me Mark, are you a giver or a taker?” Peter mouthed his neck, feeling Mark chuckle lightly.</p><p>“As if you’d settle for me just being a taker. I saw you staring. You’ll be screaming when I’m through with you.” Peter heard Mark’s tone of voice change, and he suddenly found himself headfirst in a pillow. He smirked back at him, getting on all fours.</p><p>“I’m counting on it.” Mark smirked at Peter’s reply, wetting his hands with the lube that he’d found in Peter’s top drawer. Hovering his hand slightly, Mark stared and Peter gave him a nod and licked his lips seductively.</p><p>“I want you.” Peter said softly, his hips trembling a little when he felt Mark’s first finger. He panted as Mark started opening him up, moaning against every push. On the impact of the second, he looked around with a look in his eyes, that just stirred Mark to push harder.</p><p>“A-Ah….M-Mark…” Peter moaned loudly, burying his face slightly in the pillow. Each time Mark stuck his fingers harder, he felt his knees tremble, and he was getting close already. Feeling Peter suddenly loosen, Mark pulled his fingers out fast, earning a whine from the man below him. Through the loss of contact, Peter knew that it would only be a matter of time before he got what he really wanted. After more preparation and the introduction of a condom, Mark couldn’t waste anymore time and aligned himself, making Peter cry out when he immersed himself inside him.</p><p>Starting slow, the two men groaned against each other with each hit, Peter pushing back to meet Mark’s advances. Leaning forward as he thrusted, Mark kissed down Peter’s spine, causing light whimpers.</p><p>“M-Mark..”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“I want to see you.”</p><p>“W-What?” Mark froze for a second as Peter detached himself, pushing him down on the bed. With Mark laying on his back, Peter slipped back down over him, both of them moaning at the feeling. Putting hands on either side of Mark’s face, Peter kissed him softly and continued riding him as they locked lips. Somehow, seeing Peter’s face during such an intimate act made Mark slow down a little, focusing on moving his hips up to thrust at his sweet spot, instead of sporadic fast thrusts. The position was better for both of them, and they held each other tightly as they moved together. Resting his forehead on Mark’s as he panted hard, Peter let out a large moan as he felt Mark buried so deep inside.</p><p>“Mark….Oh….god!”</p><p>“Peter…I’m so close..”</p><p>“Together…” Peter cried out for a second time as Mark thrusted harder for their last moment, both of them gripping the other’s back as they came together. After detaching from the other, Mark threw away any evidence of their lovemaking and laid beside him on the bed. He was blinking rapidly, trying to comprehend what had just happened.</p><p>“Hey…..you okay?” Peter panted lazily, turning over to face him. Mark still looked a little shellshocked, but he stared back at him.</p><p>“Can we….do that again?”</p><p>Mark and Peter ended up twisted in the sheets, their lovemaking lasting long into the evening. When they eventually fell asleep, their bodies were entwined and cuddled up, the snow outside falling heavily and threatening to trap them together forever. Not that they would’ve minded. Peter would soon come to realize that asking Mark out that particular day, would have more relevance than he ever would’ve known.</p><p>***</p><p>Laying in the hospital bed 6 months after his encounter, Peter coughed and spluttered as the nurse tried to offer him water. He’d just escaped from a cube filled with water, and the stupid nurse was offering him the substance again.</p><p>“Peter.” A deep voice called from the corner of the room.</p><p>“GET THE FUCK OUT! IT’S YOUR FAULT I’M HERE!” Holding his throat, Peter felt his vocal cords shredding as he yelled at the man responsible for his condition.</p><p>“I’m so sorry, Peter.” With that, Mark left the room.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay so that got sexier and more tragic than I intended, please forgive me!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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